


The Sweet Bliss of a Nice Shower

by fandomlicious



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, No penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomlicious/pseuds/fandomlicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hasn't been having a good week and a half. It didn't help that he had become Jackson's personal crash test dummy during a particular intense lacrosse practice. What he needs is a long, warm shower... and a brooding hot werewolf to go with it. </p>
<p>But he won't be going down that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweet Bliss of a Nice Shower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [varlovian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/varlovian/gifts).



Stiles contemplated whether he should throw one of his shoes at Jackson’s head as he hobbled down the hall towards the locker room after lacrosse practice. After a minute, he decided against it—he was too damn tired. Anyway, these were a good pair of shoes. It wasn’t worth it.

 

But as he thought back over the lacrosse session, he tightened his grip on his lacrosse stick as he genuinely considered whacking Jackson with it. Jackson had been pissed off lately. He didn’t know why. Frankly, he didn’t care. But apparently, Jackson had decided that he and Scott were the perfect objects to vent his rage on. Scott had been rammed into the ground at least three times and Stiles was pushed from behind into a mud puddle on the side of the field. He could hear Jackson laughing as Danny and Scott helped him out of the mud and over to the bench as, due to the way he had fallen, he had twisted his ankle. The pain had almost worn off now, but there was still a small throbbing as Stiles finally reached the locker room door.

 

Upon entry, he saw that it was empty. Even Coach had nicked off. It didn’t really bother Stiles that much. All Coach had done when he had been knocked down was laugh at his pain and somehow relate it back to his missing testicle (seriously, that man had some loose wiring somewhere) but Stiles had hoped to see Scott at least.

 

As Stiles finally reached his locker, he took a proper look down at himself for the first time. He groaned. His uniform was completely soaked in mud. His shirt, his pants, his gloves, his shoes—the mud just crusted itself around the edges and then slopped down everywhere else.

 

_Great._

 

He took off his shoes and gloves and dropped his lacrosse stick on the bench nearest his locker, opening it to find a roll of bandages on the shelf with a note pinned to it. Taking them out, he quickly read that it was a note from Scott.

 

_Hey. Sorry that I had to go, but Harris has me in detention again. I’ll come by to see you here afterwards. Text me if you are leaving. –Scott._

 

Stiles grinned his thanks and put them both on the bench next to his gloves. He could definitely use those… after a nice shower. He almost moaned at the thought of a nice warm shower to get rid of all the mud. Sure, the showers here were only lukewarm but they were better than sitting there, freezing until all the mud turned hard and he became something out of a horror movie.

 

He dragged himself over to the shower and turned it on full blast. As the water saturated him, raking over his dirty face and hair, he realised he still had his clothes on. 

 

_Way to go, Stiles, smooth_ , he mentally scolded himself. Oh, well, they needed a wash anyway.

 

As the weight of his wet clothes began to drag on him, he slowly peeled them off. Shirt first, then pants, underwear and finally his socks. As he undressed, he remembered the only other time he had only gotten into a shower in all his clothes.

 

Because of Derek.

 

He clenched his fist at the thought. Damn stubborn alpha bastard! One little fight—one in which Stiles was _clearly_ right—and he doesn’t see or hear from him for nearly a week and a half. A freaking _week and a half_! What the hell did he think he was playing at? No texts, no suddenly appearing at school, no secretly appearing in his room and scaring the crap out of him and certainly no midnight touching sessions. Just as his thoughts skimmed that part of his brain, images of that first shower began flashing inside his head, like he was watching them on an old school projector 

 

He cursed himself as the excitement of those memories made his cock half harden and throb, almost punching the wall out of his frustrations as he thought of his tall brooding werewolf lover, touching him, fighting him for domination, hearing his laboured breathing in his ear…

 

“Dammit!” he snarled as he grabbed himself and began pumping ferociously, the other arm propping him up against the shower wall. Yes, he was weak in that sense but after getting laid every couple of days or so, it was hard to go cold turkey—especially from Derek freaking Hale.

 

Stiles thought at first that he was just imagining the feeling of being watched, that he was just creating the feeling because he was thinking about Derek, but the tap of a shoe hitting tile brought Stiles back from the land of erotic fantasy. Turning around with his hand still tight on his dick, his mouth dropped open as he locked eyes with the alpha himself. His mind went blank of everything and he had no idea how to react. Derek just continued to stare at him, never looking away. Then Stiles remembered he was angry at him.

 

“Jesus Christ, give a guy a little warning!” Stiles snapped, “Especially at a moment like this. I’m not… decent!”

 

Derek continued to stare, only slightly raising an ironic eyebrow at him. Stiles continued.

 

“OK, yeah, a bit late for decency between us now, but still—I deserve some privacy! I mean, you don’t see me barging in on you while you are busy—” that thought just gave Stiles’ penis another jolt of life beneath his hand, but he pushed on, “Well, it’s not like I could sneak up on you, you with your freaking senses and all, but still... what the hell is the big idea behind not to talk to me for over a week and turning up out of the blue? You have some great timing, let me tell you.”

 

As Stiles continued to rant, Derek merely kicked off his shoes and pulled off his leather jacket, all while still adamantly watching Stiles. 

 

“Also, dude, do you ever blink? Seriously, it’s like you’re a freaking owl. Well, I guess you could be a bit nocturnal but—” Stiles finally broke off as he noticed Derek taking off his jacket, “Um… what are you—”

 

And then Stiles noticed the massive tent forming in Derek’s ridiculously tight pants. His mouth went dry. He looked up from the tent to Derek’s eyes, saw them darken as he watched him, the water still running down his body, which Derek was possessively raking his eyes over, looking ready to attack and take what he wanted.

 

All Stiles could say was ‘Oh’ as Derek rammed him against the wall and hungrily claimed his mouth.

 

Derek bit on Stiles’ bottom lip, demanding entry, which Stiles gladly gave him. He almost lost himself in the bliss of finally being touched again when he suddenly remembered that Derek had neglected him for over a week, and he wasn’t going to be too easy.

 

Stiles gripped onto Derek’s now-soaking green shirt and used it to flip their positions, pushing Derek against the wall and pinning him down. He knew Derek could flip them back easily if he wanted, but he distracted him by doing what he knew drove the alpha crazy—biting him at the nape of his neck.

 

A growl of arousal escaped Derek’s mouth as Stiles bit down on his neck and began to suck. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave him with a hickey that would last for at least 2 minutes before his werewolf powers healed him. Stiles smirked as he sucked and used one hand to palm Derek through his trousers, causing him to shudder beneath his touch. The power of being able to bring a mighty alpha werewolf to this state of urgency sent a bolt down Stiles’ spine right to his cock. 

 

He broke off his attack on Derek’s neck long enough to let Derek pull off his saturated shirt and throw it in some corner of the room. Stiles drank in the sight of his lover’s ridiculously muscled torso as the water ran down it and almost climaxed at the sight. 

 

No, he was determined not to give Derek the pleasure of him coming first. 

 

Once the shirt was gone, Derek gripped Stiles at the back of his head and pulled him in for another hungry kiss, all tongue and teeth. It wasn’t just passion; it was a battle for dominance that Stiles was slowly losing. So, playing as dirty as he could, Stiles took the opportunity while they kissed to unbutton Derek’s jeans and reach down his trousers, happy to discover his lover had chosen to go commando today. Stiles felt Derek’s sharp intake of breath as he cupped his hand around the alpha’s growing arousal and teasingly stroked it.

 

A guttural moan slipped between Derek’s lips into Stiles’ mouth. For the first time since he arrived, he finally spoke.

 

“St–Stiles…” he growled out warningly.

 

Stiles ignored him and continued to stroke as he began to slowly manoeuvre down Derek’s jeans until they pooled around his ankles. Derek quickly kicked them away as Stiles lowered himself down until he was face to face with Derek’s cock. Still stroking it, he gently blew over the slit, sending a shiver through the alpha. He looked up at Derek with a smirk.

 

“Well, Derek, what exactly would you—” he mouthed over the tip of his boyfriend’s dick, “—like me to do?”

 

Derek glared at Stiles with an intensity that could have set fire to the ocean, but Stiles wasn’t going to back down. As if making his point, he used his tongue to stroke the underside of his shaft. Derek’s hips jerked forward, forcing Stiles to grab his hips and pin them down against the wall.

 

“Stiles.” Derek moaned out, “Stiles…”

 

“What, Derek?” Stiles’ cock was throbbing at the sight of his lover so uninhibited under his touch.

 

“Touch–Touch me…”

 

“What’s the word?”

 

Stiles was sure his word would have been ‘Do it before I punch you’ under normal circumstances, but he wasn’t taking anything less than what he deserved. 

 

Derek growled, “…Please.”

 

Well, that was all Stiles need to hear. He took Derek in his mouth, still pinning him against the wall and listened to the primal sounds that escaped Derek’s throat as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked. He kept a steady rhythm, only picking up when Derek let out snarls of ‘faster’ in between his panting. Stiles could feel that Derek was about to come so, when he was so close… Stiles pulled off.

 

Derek’s panting stopped. Stiles cocked a challenging eyebrow at Derek, happily exacting his revenge upon the werewolf who had neglected to touch him for so long. Stiles stood up, trying to ignore the pleading of his own cock, and came as close as he could to the alpha.

 

And then, because Stiles just couldn’t help himself, he decided to rub salt into the wound.

 

“Are you OK, Derek? You seem a little flustered.” He couldn’t keep the smirk from his face as he watched Derek death-stare him.

 

Stiles figured he had pushed it when Derek grabbed him and flipped them over so he was pushed against the wall. The alpha used one hand to take his wrists and pin his arms above his head and the other to grip Stiles’ hips tightly. Stiles was almost positive there was going to be a claw-shaped bruise on his hip tomorrow morning.

 

Derek growled softly into Stiles’ ear, “You are such a goddamn tease.”

 

Stiles moaned as Derek raised his knee and began to rub Stiles’ cock slow and torturously. His legs felt like giving out as each rub sent another wave of pleasure through Stiles’ body. It was so good it _ached_. He needed more. As he tried to move his hips to speed up the thrusts, Derek’s hand pushed him back against the wall again using his superhuman strength, keeping him pinned there. Stiles writhed against the wall, completely helpless against the slow thrusts of Derek’s knee.

 

“Derek…” he moaned pleadingly.

 

Derek shook his head and kissed Stiles’ neck, slowly tracing his way up the teenager’s jaw line to that soft spot right behind his ear which almost always sent him over the edge.

 

“Derek!” Stiles cried out as the shivers from that spot made his hips thrust involuntarily, “Derek! _Please!_ ”

 

Derek froze in his kissing, but his knee never relented in its slow torturous pace.

 

“Please what?” he growled into his lover’s ear, the rumble of his throat loud in Stiles’ head.

 

“Please,” Stiles panted, “Please touch me.”

 

Stiles let out a yelp of surprise as Derek let go of his arms, gripping onto Stiles’ thighs and lifting him bodily off the ground, pinning him harder against the wall as he wrapped his legs around his waist. Derek rolled his hips, now flush against Stiles, spots of white blooming across Stiles' vision.

 

“M–move!” Stiles choked out as Derek finally began to mercilessly grind his cock against Stiles’. Stiles had lost the will to be stubborn, moaned and writhed beneath Derek as the alpha continued thrusting against him. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and gripped him tight, his nails digging in with every thrust. He was _so_ close… he was…

 

“Derek!” Stiles cried out as he finally exploded and, in his ecstasy, bit down on the same spot he had bitten Derek before. The combination of pain and pleasure sent Derek over the edge, coming all over Stiles’ stomach. As they rode out their high, the two boys stared at each other, straight in the eye, before they began to kiss again. This time, it wasn’t an argument. It was passionate and tender, saying all that remained unsaid between them, because neither of them were ready to admit it. Not yet.

 

“Stiles? Stiles? Hey, are you he—”

 

Stiles and Derek broke their kiss and looked over Derek’s shoulder just as Scott appeared into view. Scott’s eyes widened in shock and he quickly covered them.

 

“Oh dear God! _Seriously, Stiles?!_ Really? God, are you _trying_ to blind me?”

 

Stiles heard Allison’s voice from the hallway, “Scott? Scott, what’s wrong? Is Stiles OK?”

 

Stiles made quick, flailing ‘ _Don’t tell her_ ’ signals as Scott peeked momentarily at them between his fingers before turning around. Derek took the opportunity while Scott wasn’t looking to let Stiles down off the wall and put an possessive arm around him, pulling him in close.

 

“Um, fine, Allison!” Scott called out, “I just, uh—”

 

“Is Derek in there with him?”

 

Stiles’ jaw dropped open as he heard Allison make that assumption. Scott’s did too, judging from how he spluttered out his response.

 

“Uh–um, well, uh… Yeah?”

 

“Well, they're clearly busy, so let’s go!”

 

Scott stumbled again, “Well, uh...”

 

“Scott.” Derek growled, “Get. Out.”

 

Scott scrambled for the door, only pausing to call back, “Put a glove on the door next time!”

 

Stiles groaned in embarrassment. Great. He wasn’t living this one down. As he went to walk forward, pain shot through his left ankle and he remembered his sprain. Derek saw him hobbling and grabbed his arm, helping him walk.

 

“What happened?” he asked

 

“Jackson.”

 

Derek let out a snort, which made Stiles kinda hope that it was an ‘ _I’m going to kick his ass for hurting my boyfriend_ ’ kind of snort. Derek helped him over to the bench and sit down. Stiles shivered as he remembered he didn’t have a towel. Dammit.

 

“Here.”

 

Stiles felt a large weight fall upon him as Derek put his leather jacket around his shoulders. Derek picked up the bandages on the bench and wound them tightly around his ankle. Stiles went to say something but his brain, for once, told him to shut up and watch as his completely naked boyfriend, after giving him some of the best make-up humping ever, wrapped up his injury with care and, although will never admit to it, was watching him with a concern that the werewolf never really showed to anyone. Today didn’t quite turn out so bad after all.

 

Well, unless you were a teenage boy who just walked in on his best friend getting freaky with his boyfriend. So while said best friend received First Aid from the world’s best-looking unqualified nurse, Scott was trying to drown his eyes with water in an attempt to get that scarring image out of his head while his girlfriend tried not to laugh at him. 

 

She really did try.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my fangirl best friend and beta, varlovian, after she wrote me some Sterek porn to cheer me up while I was having a bad day at work. THAT is friendship <3
> 
> I was inspired by the simple fact I think walking in on sex between these two would be either awesome or hilarious- unless you were Scott. So I just went from there.
> 
> Also, small note - My first AO3 fic. Hope you all like it xD


End file.
